Special Forces: The Battle for Norval
by Mitchell J Sullivan
Summary: In the period leading up to the construction of the first death star, the Rebel Alliance stood alone, fighting for it's cause against the might of the Empire. These are their stories.
1. Kinj Garrison

1

The air was cold, there was no lighting, and there was rain. The rain had been pouring down for three days now on the small continent of Kinj in the Norval system, and Captain Hilt Bel Iblis was getting sick of it. He was soaked from head to toe with water, and was covered with mud from the exposed earth of the bear ground. All of this just made it that much more cold and uncomfortable for the commandos of the 13th elite guard under Bel Iblis. 

They had already been on this mountainous, boring and cold world for two days, and had not seen a single Imperial trooper or Stormtrooper yet. The routines they had to follow in order to get this far had been time consuming and frustrating. It was always the same monotonous procedure: forward scout, edge a little further, forward scout, edge a little further, check out a strange looking rock, forward scout, edge a little further. It was a procedure that would ultimately result in the loss of more innocent lives than there had been already. 

They were sent here to help take out a garrisoned imperial station that local imperial troops were basing their terrorist operation.. It was something Hilt Bel Iblis had done on previous occasions, this time would be no different. 

Actually, it was surprising how many times he had been in exactly the same situation as this. Crouched behind an old ferrocrete pillar, E-webb repeater rifle clutched in hands, listening anxiously to his radio. It was amazing how many times it had been raining, too. 

The battle for the garrison had already started. A group of droptroopers had already been sent in to take it from under the Imps. But there had been come kind of problem and they had hit heavy resistance, consequently loosing half their numbers and being scattered all around the garrisoned area. A classic example of bad intelligence being the alliance's own worst enemy.

However, they had the garrison surrounded, and were holding their own against the Imps. Now they only needed support. 

"Capt'," a deep, alien voice whispered over his ear piece. 

"Go ahead, Hitman," he gave the go ahead. Hitman, a blue skinned alien that Hilt didn't recognise, although he called himself Chiss, was their forward scout and sniper. 

"I've got a clear view of the post, sir. I can see two guards on the main entrance, a patrol of four troops pacing the perimeter," he reported._ Good_, Hilt nodded to no-one,_ then this is the right target_. Before they reached the garrison they would have to take out a ground to air cannon so they could call in air support. 

"Copy. Fall back and form up with us so we can get a plan of action together. Out," the radio clicked as Hitman deactivated his microphone. Hilt switched over to his squad frequency. "Squad, bring it together," he ordered. He stood up, feeling like he weighed three hundred kilograms from the rain and all the equipment he was carrying. With military trained endurance, he hastened forward to their meeting point. Some others were already there. 

First there, in a defensive couch and weapon trained on Hilt, was their communications expert, Jade. She was a very promising young private and a formidable enemy in a light battle. Coming up soon behind her was the biggest in their squad, Gunner. Gunner was an ex-Trakian Ranger, a group of elite soldiers formed to help assist the Jedi Knights during the old republic. They, along with some other groups of similar warriors, were unfortunately wiped out when Darth Vader killed the Jedi Knights, but there were some survivors. Gunner hid out in the New Brigia system until the Alliance set up a small shipyard there, after which he enlisted for the commandos. Hilt had never seen his race before, but he called himself a Thakwaash He was an invaluable weapons expert, demolitions specialist and combatant. 

The next to arrive was the youngest member of the group, Slicer. Slicer, as his codename suggested, was their code slicer and computer expert. He was the second best in the entire commando division, which was quite an achievement considering he was only seventeen years old. He was a mediocre fighter, but Hilt was willing to carry him for his slicing skill.

Hitman arrived next, followed by their unarmed combat expert, Swift. Swift was very young herself, only nineteen, but was trained by her father in most martial arts and was the best he had ever seen. She was pretty good with a pistol, too. Finally arrived Fly, the squad pilot. He was an all round commando, he could pilot, drive, operate heavy weapons, and was better than competent at assault missions. 

All of these elite soldiers formed the 13th elite guard. Hilt had kept this team together for six months now, and wasn't about to change that. Of all the commando teams, only his had remained intact for this long. That was something he was extremely proud of.

"Okay, Hitman, fill us in," he ordered. 

"There are two guards at the entrance to the guard post. Four troopers are on constant foot patrol around the perimeter, completely fitted. I think there are two to four controllers inside that operate the gattling gun," he reported. 

"I think our best strategy is to take the stormies quietly with Hitman and Swift's sniper rifles. Then we either blow up the nest from the rear or find a way inside and kill the controllers. The problem with both ways is that they could get a message off before we get to them. Any suggestions?" hilt asked. Gunner spoke up, his alien voice hard to keep quiet. 

"We don't think we have to go to too much trouble to eliminate this nest, sir. Jade could jam the communications while we blast the gattling gun with the RPCG," He offered. After months of hearing it, Gunner's constant reference to himself as plural registered as normal. Hilt considered, eyeing the special DL-Rocket Propelled Concussion Grenade launcher that gunner had slung over his shoulder. The plan was simple, and effective - a sure fire sign that it was flawed. But, for the lack of further suggestion and his failure to find any particular flaw with it, Hilt accepted the suggestion. 

"Jade, can you set that sort of jamming equipment up with your field gear?" he asked. Jade smiled.

"Capt', there's nothing I _can't_ do with this field gear. How wide an area do you want?" she asked. 

"Just enough to cover that post, I don't want it to be too obvious to any innocent sensor observers," he faced the rest of the squad. "Okay, we aren't going to be able to contact one another, so we'll go by a visual signal. Swift and Hitman will go knock out the patrol. The second the firing starts, Gunner will blow the nest while fly and me knock out the two guards. Slicer, you keep low with Jade. Swift, wait for my signal before you fire," he ordered. The chorus of 'yes, sir's' followed his orders, and his troops moved out. 

It took jade only a half a minute to set the jamming equipment. Hilt signaled Swift and Hitman with a single flash from a laser pointer, and the firing started. Immediately Jade activated the dampening field, and the battle had begun. 

Gunner stepped up to half a ferrocrete wall and fired two concussion grenades at the gattling gun, which blew apart spectacularly. Fly had already begun firing with his E-webb by the time hilt brought his own rifle into line. The two unarmored guards dropped without effort. Quickly, Hilt trained his rifle on the stormtrooper patrol, but found the four of them down already. He exhaled a breath he didn't remember taking, and checked his chrono. It had taken a total of five seconds to take out the entire post. But he knew it wasn't totally down yet. He signaled with his hands for Fly and Slicer to follow him, and they jogged forward toward the burning building. 

As they got closer, Hilt saw there was no need for caution. There were four smoldering bodies inside that were still visible, and if any others were alive they were buried underneath a few tons of ferrocrete and durasteel. He turned around and gave Jade the cut signal, and suddenly found his comm gear online again. 

"Squad, form up at the nest. We'll be moving out immediately," he ordered. A rather large explosion and the failure of a stormtrooper squad to report in would attract a fair amount of attention from anyone close enough to hear. 

Quickly, he activated the link to command and relayed their situation. "Command, this is Captain Bel Iblis of the 13th elite commandos. Target one is checked. Proceed to target two, over?" he asked. The response was full of static but understandable. 

"Affirmative. Approach in a north-westerly direction from the nest. Be advised, chariot LAV and support troops are moving through area. Additional information when you reach your objective. Command out," the radio clicked off. By now Hilt's troops were converging on the nest. They were all close enough to hear without the comm. 

"Command says to move ahead to the objective. Hitman, scout ahead, North-west, double time. Everyone be advised, there is a friendly chariot LAV and support troops in the area, so don't shoot at them. Hitman, go," he ordered. He watched as Hitman broke trail, and followed with the rest of the commandos at a much slower pace. 

***

They didn't have much time to react when they reached the outer edge of the garrison - a small village that had been demolished - before they found themselves under fire. Bright red laser blasts were raining down on them from two locations, both elevated. The commandos dove for the ground, and each managed to roll behind a ferrocrete foundation or durasteel derelict before they could be hit.

Hilt glanced around to try and determine where the blaster fire was coming from, and managed to pinpoint one of the snipers. Bringing his portable E-webb repeater rifle into line with the window of the old house, he squeezed and held the trigger. The rapid bursts of red laser burned into the walls and further. He waited until he was satisfied nothing could possibly have survived, and then released. It appeared to have paid off, if the gunman were still there he wasn't firing. 

Hilt turned just in time to see gunner letting loose on a nearby building's foundations with his special Gyrhil 6-60 heavy Rotolaser. It wasn't long before the entire building crumbled from the bottom down and fell to the street. It seemed that the second gunman was also dead. 

"Squad, move in. Secure the gunmen," he ordered. Quickly reloading the gas in his blaster, he approached the window that he had turned into a charred mass and peered inside. There was an imperial inside, alright, lying face down with a Stormtrooper 1 E-11 rifle in his hands. "Gunman one, check," he said down the comm. 

"Gunman two, check," Gunners voice answered him a few seconds later. He stared at the trooper a little longer, and then walked over to the rest of the squad. 

"Okay, good work. Lets keep it moving, a little tighter this time," he ordered, walking forward with rifle at the ready. He was startled by a loud voice from ahead of him, and brought his rifle into line. 

"Alliance troops! 42nd patrol, drop ship division! Don't shoot, we're coming out!" it shouted. Hilt sighed, and was glad he hesitated before going with his gut instinct and blasting everything in sight. 

"Affirmative. Squad, hold fire," he responded. A few seconds later, a small group of four soldiers exited a two story building to their left. "Captain Bel Iblis of the 13th elite guard commandos," he explained, gesturing to the rest of his squad. 

"Lieutenant Wil Doran," the lead man of the group said. 

"Who is in charge of this operation?" Hilt asked quickly. 

"That would be the Major. I'd take you to him, but there's a bottleneck up ahead that's an invitation for Imperial snipers."

"Don't worry, we didn't come alone here. We've got a Longprobe bomber team waiting for our signal. They could take out this bottleneck of rubble and clear a wide enough path for some troop carriers."

"I take back every bad thing I've said about commando units. Let's do it," the lieutenant said. Hilt nodded. 

"Alright, Jade, order the strike and then tell them to let loose on the garrison. Make sure they don't hit any friendlies while they're in there."

"Yes, cap'," she said, and activated the comm to command. While she was doing it, the rest of the soldiers ran for cover. It was a few anxious moments of waiting before the familiar screaming of starfighter engines was heard. Hilt heard one of the drop soldiers screaming a mighty war cry, and wondered just how long they had been pinned down by that bottleneck. 

Over the deafening explosions of torpedoes and the searing crackle of laser fire Hilt yelled "Squad head in! Watch yourselves!" He matched action to words by pulling himself up and over the ferrocrete wall and running into the scorched earth that used to be several thousand tons of debris. Someone had either left their comm on or was breathing directly down Hilt's neck. He ignored it and continued running. 

The second they were through the molten pile the whole area felt a whole lot more like a war zone. Red and green laser blasts constantly lit the skies. Explosions were the normal background noise, and shouts of wounded or lost soldiers filled the gaps. 

"This way to base camp!" the same lieutenant yelled in Hilt's direction as he began sprinting away from them. He followed him, calling for his squad to do the same. On the way they ran into two imperial troops, both of which were dispatched by Gunner with his rotolaser. Hilt shook his head in dismay when he saw base camp. 

It was an old house, half missing, with a makeshift durasteel shield protecting the side facing the garrison. Equipment was set up on wooden crates, and a very untidy and inadequate medical facility was assembled under a plastic sheet to protect from rain. He guessed which officer was the Major, and decided he was the one at the comm station with the tac-visual display next to it. Hilt stepped up beside him and waited for him to stop issuing orders. 

"- and take the left wall entrance. Squad six, your mission objectives have changed, the artillery cannon in no longer a threat. Get yourselves over to the left wall entrance and assist the penetration team. Major Cracken out," he said. He seemed to have a half-smile on his face. 

"Major Cracken, I am Captain Bel Iblis of the 13th elite guard commandos. We've been sent to aide your operation." He reported. The Major's smile seemed to broaden. 

"So you're the ones who brought air support. Thanks to that Y-wing attack we've been able to crack their outer defenses and eliminate the long range weaponry. We owe you a debt of gratitude." He said. 

"Not us, Major, the pilots. But maybe we can earn one, too. You are launching an attack on the left wall entrance?" he asked. The Major nodded. 

"If we can penetrate it then we will have access to the entire garrison and can bring it down from the inside. Security is pretty tight, and they've got two anti-infantry autocannons in operation. That's been keeping us at bay."

"Will those autocannons stand up to an RPCG?" Gunner butted in. He was obviously in his commanders state of mind. Gunner was funny that way. At any one time he could be one of many minds, and though he had a fair amount of control over the switching between them, it could be annoying when he was in the wrong mind at the wrong time. 

"You've got one? Brilliant! Captain, have your team assist the penetration squad. I will give you command over them all if you like," he offered. Hilt nodded. 

"That would be very good of you. Okay squad, move out to the left side entrance and prepare to assault the garrison. Major, we'll report in when the objective is complete."

"Of course. Good luck, Captain," he said. Hilt started to respond, but the Major was too busy on the comm to hear. He turned and ran to catch up to his unit. 

***

Hilt arrived at the left wall entrance to find very little to take command of. The penetration team seemed to consist of only twenty or so troops, and the backup squad six had a total of four men. But still, it was better than nothing. He switched his comm to a general alliance frequency and made an announcement to the rabble of fighters in front of him. 

"Alliance troops, this is Captain Bel Iblis of the 13th elite guard commandos. I need everybody to fall back out of range of those autocannons and wait for my signal to re-engage. Move," he ordered. He knew that the troops had gotten the message. From his vantage point he could see the entire battlefield, and the soldiers now withdrawing from it. He looked around and found gunner. Tapping him on the shoulder, he indicated the RPCG. 

"How many grenades are left in that?" he shouted over the noise of rifles blazing. Gunner yelled back.

"Three grenades. Plus about seven microgrenades in this blast and smash rifle!" Hilt noticed for the first time the big gun the Thakwaa was clutching in his hands. He hadn't been carrying that originally, it must have belonged to a downed soldier. 

"Okay! When I give the signal put a grenade in each of the Autocannons. I'll give you some suppressing fire with this," he explained, taking the blast and smash rifle from Gunner. 

"Yes, sir!" he acknowledged, ducking as a stray explosive detonated nearby. Hilt re-activated his comm system to give orders to the rest of the squadron. 

"Squad, this is what we're gonna do. I need Slicer, Fly and Jade to go down and assist the alliance soldiers. Hitman and Swift I need up here for the diversion."

"Yes, sir!" The reply came from someone. It wasn't long before Hitman and Swift were by his side, their faces anxious. 

"Gunner has the RPCG set up! We just need to cover him and the other troops when the autocannons go down! Watch for reinforcements!" he said. Making sure he had Gunners attention, he gave a thumbs up, and quickly covered his ears. 

The two explosions were almost simultaneous, with just enough overlap to cross into the deafening level. There was a brilliant flash from the garrison wall, and Hilt thought he heard a scream over the dying explosion. But he had no time to think about it.

Hauling himself up, he did a quick scan for imperial troops left near the entrance. None there. Moving at a fairly fast pace, he approached to the left side of the opening. It didn't take long for a group of three stormtroopers to emerge. Hilt took them out quickly with a round from the under-slung microgenade launcher. One look inside the wide corridor leading inside confirmed it to be empty, and he raised his arm to signal all the troops. "Clear," he added into his comm system for confirmation. 

Making his way inside, Hilt found a very large and mostly empty ground space surrounded by a few elevated walkways. Mostly empty. Heading in their direction at a flat run were a group of blue-clad Imperial Shadowtroopers.

Shadowtroopers were the elite stormtroopers chosen for their expertise at insertion and penetration operations. Storm Commandos, they were known as. They were not particularly excellent in pure combat, but they were a more worthy opponent than the regular stormtrooper. 

Hilt raised the blast and smash and let the laser loose in full automatic as he strafed for a durasteel support wide enough to accommodate several people. He thought he caught one of them in the chest, but couldn't be sure and wasn't game to check until their suppressing fire eased up a little. He only hoped no droptroopers got heroic and decided to charge the group of Imps. 

His hopes were shattered when he heard a maniacal war cry from the direction of the front door. He turned in time to see a group of five droptroopers charging ahead, weapons blazing blindly into the garrison. Usually, Hilt would not have risked backing up the suicidal group. But his heart skipped a beat when he saw gunner bringing up behind them, unaware of the Shadowtroopers with the advantageous position. 

Swallowing hard, he dropped to his stomach and rolled around from behind his pillar, and saw Sift and Hitman doing the same from their positions. Switching to grenades, he emptied the magazine in the Shadowtrooper's general direction. The tactic seemed to throw the enemy off balance and even took out one of the troops, but didn't do enough damage to save the entering groups. He needed to do something fast. 

Just as Hilt was considering trying to quickly learn the ways of the force and take them all, he was surprised to see them all scatter and retreat inside the garrison. Standing up, dazed and confused, he turned to the door through which they had come, hoping that would help him understand his enemies sudden retreat. And screaming forward in full battle configuration was the answer to his question. The Chariot LAV and it's supporting forces had arrived at the garrison. 

***

The remainder of the battle concluded without any further losses of civilian or Alliance fighter lives. Once they had slowly picked off the shock commandos the garrison had transmitted a surrender to command, and the rest of the personnel inside were marched out as prisoners. All that remained to do was a massive cleanup operation of the surrounding areas.

That was something Hilt was glad he didn't have to be a part of. One of the perks of being a commando was you got to make a mess and didn't have to clean up after it. No, for him and his unit it was a ride back to command for re-assignment and many commendations for a job well done. 

That was if the transport ever arrived. They had been scanning space now for over thirty minutes with still no sign of the shuttle that was supposedly coming for them. Honestly, pilots were so convinced of their own importance to a point that was beyond annoying. Still, the delay gave him a chance to talk to the Major he had briefly met earlier. 

From what he had seen and heard he had a great respect for the man. If he had managed to hold this entire botched operation together for a week until his unit and air support arrived, then he deserved an Alliance Battle Award and a promotion to General. Perhaps he would mention it to his commander back at control. 

He was still hard at work now, after the garrison was at their control. There were still pockets of stormtroopers that needed to be exterminated before the planet could be fully liberated. It was the poor Major's job to oversee that. Hilt approached him when he left the radio and tac-visual displays. 

"Major? I was wondering if I might speak with you?" he asked. The Major looked up at Hilt, his face showing the days of battle and fatigue he was now beginning to feel. 

"Certainly, Captain…Iblis?" he coaxed. 

"Hilt Bel Iblis," he informed him, extending his hand. 

"Major Airen Cracken, pleased to meet you. You know, I think I'll recommend your unit for the Alliance Battle Award. We had just about lost hope until you and your air support arrived." Hilt smiled and raised both his hands. 

"Thank those pilots, not us, Major. In fact, I'll be sure to point out in my report to Command your outstanding success in keeping this entire operation together. Don't be surprised if you're a General this time next week." The Major laughed, probably for the first time in weeks. 

"Well, it's not over yet. Tell you what, get them to send someone to relieve me and we'll be even, okay?" Now it was Hilt's turn to laugh. He was so tired and relieved the battle was over he would have laughed at anything right now. The Major seemed to straighten, and brought his thoughts back to the battlefield. "Did you want to speak to me, Captain?" he asked. 

"Ah, yes. I was wondering if you had any Idea why a group of Storm Commandos was assigned to this garrison?" The Major squinted as he thought it over. 

"I don't see any reason why. Storm commandos are supposed to be used in intrusion and insertion missions, right?" he thought aloud. "Maybe they were just waiting to be transferred to another garrison. I don't know. I could look into it, if you want?" he offered. 

"No, that's alright. You've got other things to deal with. Besides, you're probably right." Hilt was stopped by the whine of approaching repulsorlifts. He looked up to see an assault transport preparing to land near the garrison edge. His ride was here. 

"Looks like your transport is here. I'll see you around, Captain. Maybe we'll work together in future," he said before turning back around to man the comm unit again. 

"I'll look forward to it, sir. Good luck with the cleanup," Hilt also turned and walked away. There was a snort, followed by a sarcastic 'Thanks,'. Hilt smiled again, and made for the transport. 

***

Four hours later, after the unit had a chance to clean up, write reports and relax, Hilt and his team assembled in the personnel lounge aboard _Legion_ to receive their commendations. Presenting the awards was none other than General Jharvis Darhk, the man who was leading this entire special forces division of the invasion. He had his trademark stern expression, and looked to Hilt like he would prefer to be somewhere far away. 

But, he was stuck here, and had medals and the like to hand out. When he began presenting, he sounded like he wanted to make it the fastest ceremony on record. 

"Captain Hilt Bel Iblis of the 13th elite guard commandos: your unit has performed exceptionally well over the last week, which is reflected in the awards about to be presented. 

"Your mission efficiency was 178 percent, a formidable achievement for any commander. For your efforts, you have been awarded the alliance battle award and a commendation for bravery. Congratulations," he waited for the applause of on-looking officers to die down before he continued. 

"Sergeant Vula Nelprin," he stated, referring to Swift. "Your exceptional performance in your last assignment has earned you a commendation for bravery, and a promotion to Master Sergeant. Congratulation Master Sergeant Nelprin." There was more applause. 

"First Trooper Johrdann Behkassh," he announced, referring to Gunner. "Your efforts and quick thinking in the last mission have earned you a commendation for bravery and a promotion to Sergeant. Congratulations, Sergeant Behkassh.

"First trooper Iresu Elba…" the award ceremony continued, and all the commandos in his unit were given commendations for bravery. Hitman was promoted to senior lieutenant, which made him second in command of the unit. Hilt was glad to have Hitman as his Co-leader, he deserved it and could certainly handle it. 

Slicer was finally promoted from Trooper to First Trooper, after his code slicing earlier to find the exact location of the anti air cannon. He looked extremely proud, as was the rest of the unit. Slicer really was like a little brother to all of them, so everything that happened to him the entire unit felt for him. 

It was especially so for Swift, who spent a lot of time with him when they were off duty. She had taken it upon herself to tutor him in martial arts, and said he was a natural. Hilt had been fine with that, as long morale in the unit was high. 

"And one final reward for all of you," the intrusive voice of the Supreme General cut into Hilt's thoughts. "You've been granted a three day leave to Vlemoth Port effective immediately. Your transport leaves _Legion_ in approximately two hours. Be ready in hangar bay three. Dismissed, and congratulations once again," he finished. There were cheers of congratulations from the crowd, and cheers of joy from the soldiers. 

Vlemoth Port was a beautiful planet, though heavily populated, in the Julevian outer rim sector. It was a fairly good planet for leave, especially with the amount of casinos available in the various cities. Yes, three days on Vlemoth Port was just what hilt needed. 


	2. The Sovereign Protector

2

Senior Lieutenant Bradan 'Hitman' Frost pulled up a chair to the small bar in the pilots lounge aboard the _Legion_. Normally, he wouldn't venture into the pilots lounge, but it currently was the only place serving drinks that contained alcohol. The bar in the Armed forces deployment area was locked down because of a mission that was due to launch soon for another unit. Because they needed to be completely sober for a mission, the bar would only serve synthesized drinks to anyone. 

Not that that stopped the other pilots from going to any other bars on the ship, like he was, but the administrators didn't think like that. Pilots and troops were perfectly well mannered and obedient, they wouldn't do anything nearly as devious as simply move to a different bar. 

He shook the thoughts out of his head as Kumara Karhn, known by other commandos as Fly, sat down next to him. His Gotal face was a little tight, and looked even more menacing than usual. " Couldn't get a drink at the other bar either, eh?" he asked. The Gotal snorted and shook his head.

"Don't even ask," was all he said. 

"Yeah, those servant droids can be pretty annoying sometimes," he said after a sip of his drink. There was something the other wasn't telling him, though. He seemed frustrated, and not over something so simple as not being able to get a drink. 

Maybe it was something to do with the Gotal distrust of droids. One of the most amazing things about Gotals were the small horns on top of their heads that served as sensors. They could detect light, radio, infrared, electromagnetic emissions and a whole host of other things. Being near droids tended to disrupt their senses, and so their natural reaction was caution or suspicion.

But Hitman could sense something else. He decided he would probe a little further. "Let me guess, girl trouble?" he asked. The Gotal snorted again.

"Not nearly so complicated. No, it's nothing really, I'm probably overreacting," he explained. 

"To what?"

"Oh, it's just… I keep getting this background buzz in my sensors. Usually, I'm told that means I'm detecting the force nearby. But I don't see how that could be possible," he elaborated. 

"Ah, I see. Well, what if you're not overreacting?" he suggested. The Gotal stared at him, confused.

"What?"

"Well, what if the force _is_ nearby? What if Darthy is on the planet?" he explained. It wasn't a thought he wanted to entertain, but if it was a possibility that would have to be explored. If Darth Vader were on the planet, or the Emperor himself, then it meant there was something much bigger going down on Norval than they had originally thought. Also, they had a very good chance of capturing them. 

"No, I don't think so. Why would Darth Vader be on that planet? It's out of the way and unimportant, not worthy of an appearance by the Dark Lord of the Sith," Fly reasoned. 

"Still, it's a possibility. You're registering the force, so it has to be around here _somewhere_. Besides, if Darth Vader were here it would explain the Shadowtroopers," Hitman reasoned back. 

"Maybe, but then I have never detected the force before. I know what I am sensing solely from what my parents and instructors have told me. And it doesn't necessarily explain the Shadowtroopers. I mean, why Shock Commandos? Why not Sovereign Protectors?" Fly said. "Well, it doesn't mean Darth Vader was at that particular garrison. Maybe he's somewhere else on the planet. Somewhere that we haven't scouted yet. Or maybe it isn't Darth Vader, but only a Sovereign Protector. They can use the force, right?" Sovereign protectors were the soldiers hand picked by Darth Vader and the Emperor to be their personal agents. They were chosen for their fitness, stamina, strength and a multitude of other things. Then Vader would proceed to teach them the ways of the Sith, though the Protectors were seldom able to absorb more than the most basic abilities. 

"I still don't buy it. Why would a sovereign protector be at the garrison if Vader or the Emperor weren't? And above all of this, if Vader is here, then why isn't the _Executor_ tearing us to shreds right now?" Hitman sat back, defeated.

"Okay, fair enough. But if you don't mention this to the General, or the captain at least, I'm going to do it myself. Consider that an order." The Gotal nodded. 

"Yes, sir," he acknowledged. Right at that moment, the other four subordinates of the 13th elite guard entered the bar together. They all had smiles on their faces and were chatting loudly. 

"Hey, there they are! I told you they'd have found a bar somewhere. I'm telling you, Gotals can detect alcohol with those horns, too," Kerren 'Slicer' Tassidus announced across the lounge. Fly put his hands up, seemingly over his anxiousness.

"Okay, you've found me out. But at least I'll never loose my way to your mother's house," he shot back. Slicer raised his hands too, only his were raised in an offensive combat position. 

"Hey, what have I told you about talking about my mother?" he taunted mockingly. Some nearby pilots listening in laughed as well as the commandos. 

"Alright, you lot, calm down. It's time for the unit commendations now. And maybe we can start for the award for greatest dead weight.

"With two shots fired, no hits and managing to take a laser graze to the shoulder, please congratulate Slicer!" he announced. Slicer stood up from the bar stool and took a formal bow. "He also receives the luckiest man alive award for accidentally penetrating an air vent and forcing three storm commandos out from cover to make them easy pickings for the Captain. 

"Biggest mess made award goes to Gunner again for demolishing a moderately sized building to take out a single trooper. Congratulations," he said. Gunner stood to take a bow, and also made a small speech. 

"Thankyou, thankyou. Our only regret is that we could blow the building to pieces to make for a more interesting light show," he bellowed in his Thakwaash voice.

"Honestly, you demolition boys. Do you have to blow everything up?" Jade asked sarcastically. Gunner gave her what passed as a Thakwaash wry smile. 

"We don't have to blow everything up, we just like to," he quoted the tagline of all demolition specialists everywhere. Hitman continued. 

"Next award is for biggest showoff: for her shoot-one-while-fly-kicking-the-other maneuver, congratulate Swift," he indicated the young woman with his arm. More applause from the commandos was halted by a nagging beep from all of their pockets. Hitman yanked out his comlink, and thumbed it on. 

"Please report to the hangar bay. Your transport off-ship leaves in thirty minutes and is now boarding," the female voice of the administrator said over the comm. He placed the comlink back, and stood quickly. 

"Oops. I forgot about that. Everyone: get your stuff and get to the hangar bay now!" he said urgently. He took off from the bar at full speed, the remainder of the unit behind him. 

*** 

The Lord Darth Vader stood as rigid as his years of military experience allowed him. He had his hands clasped behind his back, underneath the long flowing cape he wore. Directly in front of him was a large wall screen which was displaying various images of the city of Norval . 

Those Images had not changed in the last half hour, though Vader knew that they would. Any time now, a rebel patrol was bound to send a reconnaissance team to the capital city of this continent. And when they did, They would have an adequate demonstration prepared to announce the Empire's presence in the city. In fact, they would have an adequate demonstration prepared to utterly annihilate a small army. 

The rebels had launched an attack on the secondary garrison they had erected on a completely different continent. Once they had found it, their anti-air cannons had destroyed the reconnaissance flights. Since that attack had been launched, the Rebels had had to wait a week before backup forces arrived in the form of a single attack frigate in orbit. He knew that the garrison wouldn't fall, but that the frigate would have it's own scout craft, and would hence tumble into the presence of Norval base. 

When they did arrive, his forces would stage the most valiant fight the rebels had ever seen to defend the base. Backup forces from other areas of the Empire would also be called to defend the base. Hopefully, when the frigate in orbit was destroyed by the Imperial Star Destroyers en-route, the Rebels would conclude they had found a major Imperial base. 

Which, of course, they hadn't. Norval base was expendable, erected only to keep the uprisings of the locals in check. It wasn't until Vader had learned of the imminent liberation attempt on Norval did he hatch this elaborate trap. 

It was their best chance to destroy the rebellion since it's appearance. It also required use of Darth Vader's new flagship, the _Executor_. The plan itself was simple: make the rebels assume they had found a major base, or that there was something here the Empire didn't want them to find. Let them jump to the wrong conclusion and send in their entire war fleet to attack the star destroyers in orbit, and rally their ground forces to eliminate the base. Only when they arrived would they find out just how outnumbered and outgunned they were, and just how dead they were. 

It was just the sort of trap Darth Vader loved to fabricate: lots of killing for minimal losses. Now, he only awaited the Rebellion's reconnaissance flight. He was approached hesitantly by a junior lieutenant, who stood uneasily at attention and waited to be acknowledged. Vader turned slowly. 

"Yes, lieutenant?" he asked in his inhumanly deep and amplified voice. The lieutenant stuttered a little. 

"My Lord, I-I'm afraid the squadron of Storm Commandos that were stationed at the Kinj Garrison have failed to transmit their routine report. It should have been sent two standard hours ago," he reported. Vader lifted his head higher, drawing himself to full height and dwarfing the younger officer. 

"Why was this not reported sooner?" he asked, an edge to his voice. 

"Well, sir, we-we," he began. He was waved quietly by a sweep of Vader's arm, who was suddenly angered by the man's incompetence. 

"Has there been any communication with the garrison since then?" he asked. The lieutenant was visually trembling now. 

"Negative, sir. The last communication indicated that the battle was progressing steadily in their favor," he explained. 

"And when was that?"

"Shortly before the Storm Commandos were due to report," he said. Vader lowered his head, and took a deep breath. When he raised his head again, he saw the lieutenant sweating. He wasn't surprised, men often sweated when they were denied oxygen. 

"Lieutenant, do you realise the extent of your actions?" he asked, the other man steadily weakening and gripping his throat. Vader continued "In future, I expect anomalies like this to be reported _immediately_. Am I making myself clear to you?" he asked. The lieutenant did the only thing he could, and nodded. "Good. Now contact the garrison and ask for an update," he ordered, releasing his force grip on the man and pointing to the communications console. 

Struggling with his breath and reduced strength, the officer pulled himself up to the control boards. He had to wait a few minutes before his breath and voice returned. Then he activated the comm. "Base to Kinj Garrison, please update on your current situation." He ordered. When there was no response, he began frantically scanning readouts and gauges. Vader could guess what was happening. 

"Report, lieutenant," he said. The lieutenant looked up, his look one of pure despair. 

"That frequency has been locked out, my Lord," he said. Vader nodded, and raised his hand. He injected as much menace into his voice that he felt appropriate. 

"That is the most unfortunate piece of news that you could have received, lieutenant," he stated. This time, he did not release the force grip on the man's throat. 

*** 

"Leader we are approaching the city. Scanners are at full. I put us there in four minutes," Lightfoot three reported from the front of the formation. Their flight of Y-wings had been ordered to make a single pass of the capital city on the Continent of Norval, and then return to base. Intelligence was supposedly not expecting there to be any major resistance there. 

"Affirmative, three," the report from leader came back. He switched to command frequency, though his voice was still broadcast to his cockpit. "Command this is Lightfoot flight. We are approaching the objective from the east. ETA is four minutes. Lightfoot out," he said. Three cleared his scanners, and set them for maximum range. The sensor packages on a Y-wing were not the top of the line, and compared to other ships they left the Y-wing blinded. But still, they should have a fairly good chance against whatever minimal resistance the Empire would have at the city. 

The first warning sign was a single warning blip on his sensors. It was an aerial signal, signifying a flying craft. They weren't close enough to get an ID on it yet, nor were the sensors good enough to relay the profile. They'd just have to guess. 

"Leader, three. I am picking up a target, directly ahead. It's heading more or less in our direction. No ID yet, but probably a fighter judging from the speed," he said. Leader responded shortly afterward. 

"I see it, three. All ships in attack formation. Do not fire until it is confirmed unfriendly. Follow me in for a pass," he ordered. Three throttled back and let leader pull in front of him. He also saw the maneuver that took them into an intercept course for the unknown fighter. 

The second warning sign was the narrow tunnel that the surrounding buildings created, which was precisely where the intercept course led them. Three dismissed it as coincidence right up to the point where his sensors exploded with red blips.

"Leader! We have got fighters all over the place! I'm reading Imperial TIE fighters and…looks like assault gunboats!" three shouted. 

"Copy! All fighters break by pairs and engage the fighters at your discretion. Make sure you-" his transmission abruptly ended. Three scanned his sensors and saw leader's light fade out. That couldn't have been right. The fighters weren't in range of their craft yet…and then he saw it. On the ground, arranged like a firewall to stop aircraft, were fifteen Imperial mobile SAM launchers. The deadly vehicles were highly dangerous to flying craft with their missiles that were capable of destroying a Y-wing in one shot. 

The green lights on his sensor board were blinking out steadily, and it wasn't long before he found only two others were left. He was now also the ranking officer. "Lightfoot! Pull out! Get back to base immediately and report this to command! Go, go, go!" he shouted. But he knew his time had probably run out, the fighters were now among them.

Hoping to get a little back on these Imperial vermin, he pulled up sharply and armed his missile launchers. He kept the stick pressed to his chest and waited until he was completely inverted. His inertial compensator went crazy, unable to cope with the sudden maneuver, and he felt himself being pinned to his chair, the g-forces nearly overwhelming. Just a little further and… there. 

Two TIE fighters were directly in his flight path. Not bothering to get a lock, he fired a dual-linked pair of missiles at the centre of the fighters. At a proximity of fifteen metres, the missiles exploded, and the two TIE fighters vanished with the cloud of fire that resulted. The remaining fighters seemed daunted by this, and hung slightly back. He seized the opportunity and decided to make an escape. If he could. 

He swung his nose around, facing any direction that took him away from the ground cannons, and slammed his throttle lever down all the way. He then switched his comm unit over to command frequency and reported in. 

"Command, this is Lightfoot three. We have come under heavy fire, and have taken casualties. Leader is dead. Mark our position and bombard it to hell! Three out," he said frantically. He noticed that within the few seconds he had turned his comm over and now, three fighters were beginning to close on him fast. There wasn't much he could do. He was heavily outgunned, by an enemy that could easily outmaneuver him. Not a good situation. There was, however, _one_ thing he could do. 

As if a mirror image of his previous maneuver, he brought his nose around to head back into the fight area. The TIE's were taken by surprise, and flew right by him. Their less than aerodynamic design made it impossible for them to match his sharp turn. Throttling up to full, he blasted back to the ground to air cannons. 

The second he caught sight of them, they opened fire, sending bolts of dangerous energy sizzling toward him. He centered his targeting brackets over the middle gun, and reached for his ejection lever. Now it didn't matter if he got hit, those guns were doomed. 

Yanking back on the lever, he felt himself being propelled strongly into the air, and for a few moments had a spectacular, uninterrupted view of the battle field. He saw his Y-wing plowing into the ground in the center of the gun formations, and immediately thereafter exploding into a brilliant fireworks display. He allowed himself a moment of smugness before he passed out from the g-forces. 

*** 

"All Y-wings down, my lord. One pilot ejected. Do we retrieve or exterminate?" the Ensign behind a control board asked. Lord Vader merely watched the screen displays, overlooking the damage done to his anti air guns. The Damage wasn't irreparable, nor was it critical. Rather, it was an inconvenience that would be expensive to remedy. 

"Retrieve the pilot and keep him under high security. Assign our best interrogator droid to extract all the information that is possible from him," he ordered. The ensign nodded and logged the order. Vader returned his gaze to the screens. 

"Major Vendt?" Lord Vader asked. Though he couldn't see the Major, he could sense his sudden anxiety. He could understand being addressed by a dark lord of the Sith would be daunting. "What report have you from the fleet?" he asked, his voice seeming louder than normal because of the silence in the control room. The Major took a second to compose an answer. 

"They should be arriving momentarily to dispatch the orbiting frigate, sir," the Major reported. Vader nodded, satisfied - only barely - by the answer. 

"Alert me when they do," he said. Examining the screens one last time, observing the troop carrier moving out through the heavily guarded doors to recover the rebel pilot, he turned slowly. He deliberately let his cape flow smoothly, guiding it with the force so that it was much more graceful than was humanly possible. He took heavy and emphasized steps that echoed through the room, in the silence sounding like an antique clock. As he approached the doors, he didn't stop and wait for them to fully open, rather kept his pace steady and strolled through them. Displays like this were a constant reminder to the officers on duty of his control and unquestionable power. Displays that he had no objection of putting on at regular intervals. 

The corridor outside was mostly empty, with only a handful of Stormtroopers on routine patrol and sentry duty. They all saluted as Vader walked past, a salute which Vader expected and did not return. 

He would be leaving this world soon, and heading back to Coruscant to receive new orders from the Emperor. Whilst he had the utmost confidence that his troops would have no trouble in carrying out the ambush, he still needed someone whom he trusted personally and displayed more than ample confidence to oversee the operation. The man who would control the space battle was arriving with the first wave of Star Destroyers. The man who would take Vader's place on the ground was meditating as instructed in his own chamber. 

Vader approached that door now, which opened automatically for him. Inside he found complete darkness with the exception of several holographic candles in the central platform of the room. There, shrouded behind the dark, hooded uniform of all Field Sovereign Protectors, was the closest thing Vader ever had to a protégé. He was exceptionally strong with the force for a non-Jedi, and showed great promise in the Emperor's New Order. 

As the cloaked figure noticed Vader's arrival, the holographic candles ceased and the room's normal lighting activated. He stood immediately at attention. "My Lord," he said in his low voice, followed by a bow of respect. 

"Stand easy, Protector," Vader told the other man. He waited until he could sense the other's full attention, and then continued. "The time is growing near for your service, Aerthor. I will be leaving the system soon to travel to Coruscant. I trust you are prepared to take command of my forces?" Vader queried. The Sovereign protector straightened even further. 

"I am ready, My Lord," he stated. Vader nodded. 

"Good. The rebel attack will be strong. Their history when it comes to avenging fallen comrades is one of impressive consistency," he told him. 

"Though they may try, they will not defeat us, my Lord. However motivated, they are no match for the force," Aerthor said. Vader sensed that the words were genuine, and accepted the response. 

For a moment, Vader looked at the Sovereign Protector. This was a man he had trained personally in the ways of the Sith. A man who had even impressed the Emperor with his force skills. A man who was so adept in the Sith arts that he was borderline Jedi. Men with skills like Aerthor's were extremely rare in this galaxy, and were an asset to the Empire. Vader could not have been more reassured that the operation would succeed if _he_ were in direct command. Yes, Aerthor would make this ambush work. 

"I am glad you believe so. However, do not make the critical error of underestimating the enemy. They may not be as well equipped and well trained as the Empire, but the Rebellion will not give up easily. Most, if not all of their warriors have absolutely nothing to loose. Men who have nothing to loose are the most dangerous adversaries." Aerthor nodded his head, letting a little light through the gap in the hood. His mauve eyes reflected the light in the room, giving him a very evil impression.

"I understand that, my Lord. And the rebels will not be underestimated by myself or any others under my command. Should that happen, I shall see fit to discipline them," he said. 

"I also have a secondary objective I want you to see to personally. There is a man, a Rebel commando, named Hilt Bel Iblis. You have heard of him?" Vader asked. 

"Brother of Garm Bel Iblis. Supposedly killed at Anchoron when his family suffered a similar fate," he confirmed. 

"Supposedly. Apparently, Imperial intelligence allowed their efficiency to lapse in that case. Hilt Bel Iblis was the man most directly responsible for the loss of our Kinj garrison," he said, getting back to the subject immediately. Aerthor seemed a little surprised. 

"I was not aware that we lost our Kinj garrison," he said. Vader nodded, but ignored the statement. 

"I want him dead. He leads a commando unit that will no doubt make a strike against this base. When he does, you will be ready for him," Vader said. 

"Will they not be killed when their command ship is destroyed?" Aerthor asked. 

"They are no longer aboard the orbiting vessel. But they will return, and when they do, you shall be ready for them," Vader commanded. 

"As you wish, my Lord," Aerthor gave a quick bow with his head. 

"Be wary. He is a formidable warrior, as is the rest of his unit. They are incredibly resourceful, and have a unique ability to turn unfavorable situations their way. On top of this, he has nothing to loose." Vader could sense the confidence in Aerthor.

"I look forward to the challenge, my Lord."

"And I am certain you shall succeed, Protector. The Emperor has expressed an explicit interest in this operation. Should it succeed, you are most likely to benefit greatly from it," he told him. Not that the promise of reward or preferential treatment ever mattered to a guardsmen or Sovereign protector, knowing that the Emperor was interested in his performance had to provide some extra incentive. That conclusion was reflected in Aerthor's smile. 

"I will do my best to create an impression, my Lord," he said. At that moment, the comlink in Vader's helmet beeped at him. 

"Lord Vader, there is a report from the fleet. They have arrived in-system and are in position to engage the frigate. Orders?" the voice of Ensign Vendt asked. 

"Engage them. No mercy, no prisoners," he ordered. He shut down the comm before the ensign could acknowledge. Then he gestured to Aerthor.

"Come now, Aerthor. You are required to take command of our forces," Vader said with a gesture of his arm. Without a word, the two black-clad figures left the room, and headed to the war room. 

*** 

On the Bridge of the Imperial Star Destroyer _Dark Matter_, Admiral Teshik waited patiently for the go-ahead from the Lord Darth Vader to engage the frigate _Legion_. He felt completely relaxed and confident he would succeed. Not only in this initial engagement - which he felt a civilian could win. Three star destroyers against a single assault frigate - but in the campaign he was assigned as a whole. If Lord Vader's plan went by design, the rebellion would be dealt a glancing blow. 

Just how glancing that blow would be, not even the Emperor could foresee. That was the only flaw Teshik could find in Vader's plan. The Rebellion could not be counted on to jump in the expected direction. An all out attack was _one_ of the possible courses of action the Rebellion could take. There were a whole host of others that did not provide an acceptable outcome for this campaign.

It all came down, Teshik had decided, to whom made the decision when the information was delivered. If the current rebel leader, Mon Mothma, were responsible for the decision, Teshik knew that all this effort would be for nothing. Though Mon Mothma was a good leader and an excellent diplomat, she had no real military skill, and would hence come to the decision that was diplomatically the best. In this case, it would be to pull out all the forces and leave Norval strictly alone. 

However, if the decision went to the leader of the special ground forces General Garlinn Harper, then he was sure that a very large portion of Rebel ground forces and warships would be knocked out. Harper had a tendency to ruthlessly attack enemies that had killed his own forces. This was a habit that had ultimately resulted in more of his ground forces being killed. 

Those two were the only officers Imperial Intelligence knew of whom were capable of making the decision, but he was certain there were more. The outcome of this deception would take some time to determine.

"Sir, Norval base says go ahead. They remind us to take no prisoners," the Captain of the _Dark Matter_ announced in his direction. "Excellent," Teshik responded immediately. "Bring us to full power and open fire with all turbolaser batteries at maximum range. Lock tractor beams at the earliest opportunity. All ships to launch fighters to slow it's retreat, aggressive attack pattern," he ordered. His voice was slightly raised, and he was speaking quickly. Shortly after he issued the commands, the bridge filled with shouts of various statistics and status reports. A red light also flashed and a small alarm warbled softly in the background. 

Teshik observed the rapidly retreating frigate, and privately wondered why it was doing so much more slowly than the ship was capable of. Or rather, ships of the same model were capable of. 

He anticipated the reason a moment before it spewed from the hangar bays at top speed. Three full squadrons of T-65 fighters were now added to the fight. Teshik frowned. The distraction of X-wing starfighters might prevent the TIE's from slowing the frigate's escape. 

"Captain, launch the _Dark Matter_'s TIE bombers. They are to take down the frigate's engines or take it down completely," he ordered. He had hoped to keep the bombers out of the fight and minimize his losses, but now he didn't have any choice. The TIE bombers were the only craft that could be within range and have a chance of taking down the frigate. 

He watched as the bulky, awkward looking craft lumbered out of the hangar bays and over the hull on his tac-visual screen. "Order one squadron of interceptors to fly cover for the bombers. I don't want them damaged before the objective is complete," he ordered. Yes, that would provide them with adequate cover. Even if enough X-wings survived the initial head to head engagement to be a threat to the bombers, they would not survive long enough to do significant harm. 

The bombers passed through the center of the dogfight without too many problems, and were very quickly within range of their warheads. At six kilometers from the frigate, Teshik saw the blue, sleek looking warheads streak away from the bombers and close in on the frigate. 

The first half dozen torpedoes completely collapsed the rear shields of the frigate, the second six made a mess of anything that could possibly drive the ship forward. All in all, a highly efficient bombing run. He would have to commend that bomber squadron when they arrived back from the fight. 

It wasn't long before the _Dark Matter_ was within the range of it's own weapons, and the space between the frigate and the star destroyers became a dazzling light show of turbo fire. Two minutes and thirty-three seconds later, all Rebel targets were destroyed.

Teshik smiled a broad smile as he reviewed the statistics for the mission. Thirty-six alliance fighters destroyed for zero Imperial TIE's, and a frigate destroyed cleanly without even getting a shot off at the destroyers.

"Inform Lord Vader," he said proudly, "that the objective is complete." 

*** 

"Lord Vader, report from the fleet. Objective complete: orbiting ship destroyed. No survivors." Ensign Vendt announced with what sounded like relief. Or rather, what felt through the force like relief to Aerthor. He concentrated a little harder, and confirmed his suspicions. 

His skill with the force was not great, though he was stronger than most other Sovereign protectors. He was strong enough to anticipate enemy actions to a certain degree, almost like a danger sensor that alerted him to threat. He was also twenty five percent faster than a normal human, and could move small objects with high skill, and large objects with moderate skill. Physical powers were his expertise, not the mental abilities that allowed him to influence another's thoughts or control them completely. Like his master could.

He admired Lord Vader greatly, and did his best to model his behavior on the Dark Lord's. True it sometimes wasn't as effective as coming from a two meter tall Sith Warrior, but it was effective enough. 

He suspected, and to a small amount sensed, that Vader had some sort of special relationship with him. He spent much more time in training with him, and always trusted him like a personal aid. _Or maybe_, he thought,_ like a son_. As far as Aerthor knew, Vader never had a son that he could train and sculpt in his image. Maybe he was the closest he could ever come. 

Which was perfectly understandable. Even though he knew Vader would never admit to it, not even mentally, he could understand why he would want to substitute him for a son. The most foreboding image in the galaxy couldn't just go about and make time for a family. _That's an entertaining thought: Darth Vader - sensitive husband and loving father_. 

"Good. Inform Admiral Teshik that I will be reporting to his flagship in no less than an hour. Make sure a transport to Coruscant is ready when I arrive," he ordered. Vader turned from the Ensign and back to Aerthor. 

"You will be leaving now, my Lord?" he asked. 

"The Emperor has requested my presence. The Thirteen Project is drawing to a close and requires my direction." Aerthor didn't know what the thirteen project was, but could sense Vader wanted to keep it that way. "Remember, Aerthor: this mission is of the utmost importance. Victory means greater things, failure will lead to death. One way or another," Vader cautioned. Through the menacing warning Vader had put on for the other officers, Aerthor could detect - though only slightly - a tinge of remorse in the Sith Lord's thoughts. 

"I will not fail you, my Lord," Aerthor said confidently. 

"I know you wont. You have command, Protector," Vader announced so that everyone in the war room would hear. Then he turned, and with his trademark inhuman grace, left the room in the direction of the hangar bays. Aerthor took a deep breath. _Time to make an impression. _


End file.
